Flintlock (Cutlass Series)

by Ashley Nixon

  “There are Estrellas fugitives here,” he said.

  “Cove,” Sam’s voice drew his attention. “That’s a distraction. Look.” Cove followed the helmsman’s gaze and found that two Elfin ships raced for them. They were fast and glided upon the water. They had come from the river and were lining up to attack the two ships. They had no time to run for their guns.

  “Down!” The command was ordered and everyone on deck flattened. Shots were fired and cannon balls tore through the ship at all levels, destroying the sails and splitting the mast, which tumbled to the deck below. Wood split and exploded, becoming just as lethal as lead. Gunfire sounded and men fell, lead through their bellies. Then the ship crashed into theirs, groaning with impact. Shrill cries rang out and the men on the enemy ship boarded. Those who boarded were privateers as well as former prisoners from Estrellas, and they were having fun. They sliced and shot, filling the air with terrible cries and thick clouds of smoke.

  “Get to your posts!” Cove roared. They would have to fight to get there, but it was the only thing they could do to survive. Cove took up his blade, though he was weak, and he fought. His arms had little strength, and these men wanted heads, so he found he had power in blocking, and when they got too close, he sent a dagger through their hearts. There was gunfire all around, and the shouts and screams from Devon’s ship echoed their own.

  “Cove!” Sara’s voice rose shrilly, and Cove turned in time to find an arrow through the man who was about to kill him. He turned and saw Sara had taken up the bow Leaf had given her. She persisted, stringing arrow after arrow and killing any man who approached him. It was then he felt a pain shoot straight through him. It spread through his chest, and he couldn’t move. Sara screamed. Somehow, he managed to stay upright, though he knew he’d been shot through the chest. He didn’t have long.

  The ambassador turned and saw Sam kill the man with the gun.

  “Cove! We are surrounded!” Sam’s voice rose above the clamor.

  Cove looked around. There was no way this ship or Devon’s ship could survive another set of cannon fire.

  “Abandon ship!” he yelled, and he turned to Sara. Wrapping his arms around her, they dove overboard. The cannons sounded again. And with him and the crew, bits of the ship and artillery followed them into the sea.

  Cove opened his eyes momentarily to see the ocean colored with his blood. He wondered if this would be his end. Death had always been a possibility, as he’d been reminded over and over again by Sara. Another day was never guaranteed, but there was no way he could have gotten this far believing that.

  Suddenly he felt himself being pulled, and he broke through the surface, spitting out salt water and taking deep breaths, though they were labored and painful.

  He looked up, and the sun was in his eyes. Through the bright rays, he could make out Sara above him. She was laboring as she dragged him to shore. With the sun on her head, she seemed to be an angel. Finally she dropped him in shallow water. Soon after, Sam pulled him farther to shore.

  “Look!” Sara pointed to the horizon and Cove managed to sit up. Several ships now dotted the landscape. At first Cove’s heart fell. If they were the enemy, he and those with him would be doomed. Sam took out his spyglass.

  “It’s Dominique,” he said. “They are Corsairs.”

  And almost immediately, the Elfin ships were surrounded and the battle there appeared fierce, leaving Cove and the others to deal with the men on the shores. Cove tried to stand, and when Sam attempted to stop him, he snapped.

  “I demand you stop,” he said. “I will fight. If I do not, I will die.”

  Sam hesitated, and then shut his mouth. He nodded and helped Cove to his feet. Sam gave him one of his blades. He surveyed the men and women who had made it to shore. There were few of them, but enough.

  Then there was Sara. He turned to her. “I love you, I have always loved you, and I will continue to love you.”

  She swallowed hard. He reached forward and kissed her. When he drew away, Sara’s eyes were hard. As she spoke, her mouth quivered. “Let me fight with you.”

  His brows came together, and he brushed her cheek. “No,” he said, shaking his head.

  “I will fight with you!” she said between her teeth, and he felt her fingers tighten around the hilt of the blade at his waist.

  He gazed at her for a moment longer, and then nodded. He unsheathed the blade and gave it to her. Then he turned with Sam and the others, raised his own blade, and charged.

  Their enemies did too, and as they came upon each other, the pirates watched as arrows flew down from the trees to take the invaders down. Cove couldn’t see them, but he knew they were Elves. Those who escaped Elfin arrows engaged. Cove fought, and his adrenaline rushed so high, he didn’t even feel the pain anymore.

  He fought hard, using his blade and his dagger. He fought to harm, to incapacitate, to spill blood. If this was to be his last battle, they would win.

  Behind them, the last Elfin ship fell and the Corsairs made their way to land. Dominique led them, his blade held high, his red cape splayed behind him. Their cries rose up for battle, and when they joined the pirates of Silver Crest, a fury was unleashed unlike any other. It was almost supernatural to watch the Corsairs fight, the way they used their bodies like a weapon, finishing the deed with blades, axes, or bows.

  The Lyrics fought too, but not with magic, with real steel. They fought to save themselves, to protect the freedom they’d recently gained. They slew many, and the way they fought only hinted at their anger and their pain. They were vicious and unflinching.

  The Elves in the trees began to pinpoint the bodies of the privateers and prisoners. One by one the invaders fell. Those who attempted to flee fell, surrounded on all sides by pirates and Elves.

  When the battle neared its end, Cove moved toward the water and sat. His head felt light and his chest hurt. He refused to look, refused to accept. Suddenly he found himself falling back into the sand, and everything moved slower—the sky, the screams. He could see Sara’s face, but her voice was far away, and though he knew she wanted him to speak, he couldn’t form words.

  “Can’t you help him?” Dominique demanded of the Lyrics.

  “Our magic is not strong enough,” one said. “Not to restore a life.”

  “Someone…someone go get Leaf!” Sam demanded.

  “If we cannot save him, the Elfin prince cannot,” another Lyric said.

  “I don’t care what you say!” Sam sneered, and then took off toward the forest.

  Cove took in deep breaths. When he closed his eyes, he could feel someone touch his face, and he knew Sara was begging him to open his eyes, but they were so heavy. And when he could no longer open his eyes…he knew that he was dead.

  Barren woke with a start when cold water hit him. He was then jerked upright by his hair before he could even fully understand what was happening. It took only a moment to adjust because what he saw before him made his heart speed up and beat out of his chest. He wasn’t sure what to do, but his mind raced instantly. His hands were tied behind his back, there were guards all around. He had no weapons. But Datherious did. The prince stood with a long knife pressed to Lord Alder’s throat. The Elfin king was on his knees, his back to the prince, head raised in dignity. He was always so proud, even now, silver hair spilling over his shoulders, icy eyes that only hinted at anger, not fear.

  They were in Lord Alder’s throne room and everything was white. Lord Alder himself was clad in fine white robes.

  “No!” Leaf’s voice was both desperate and harsh.

  “Oh, look. Your son is awake,” said Datherious. He was too amused. “He’s just in time to witness his father’s execution for treason.”

  Barren’s eyes snapped to Leaf who was struggling to break free, but the guards who held him stepped hard on his bent legs and he gave out a cry. “Don’t you dare!” Leaf spat. “Don’t you dare touch him!”

  His voice was filled with raw fear, raw anger. Barren knew the
re was also a part of Leaf that wanted to beg…maybe even take his father’s place.

  “I do not serve you,” Lord Alder said calmly, but his voice carried throughout the hall. “Therefore, I cannot commit treason.”

  Datherious laughed. Then grabbing a handful of Alder’s long hair, he yanked his blade through it, and the strands fell to the floor. Alder did not move.

  “You signed a contract with your king, agreeing to serve him with magic!” Datherious cried.

  Leaf stared and so did Barren. This was the confirmation they had been waiting for, but not like this, never like this.

  “Why don’t you explain this agreement to your son,” Datherious’s voice was mocking. “He doesn’t seem to understand.”

  Though his head was still held high in defiance of the prince, his throat now worked. “It was the only way to protect you, Leaf. It was the only way to protect the kingdom.”

  Datherious kicked the lord hard in the back so that he fell forward on his face. He let out a grunt as he crashed to the marble floor, and when Datherious dragged him up, blood stained his face, his white robes, and the white marble.

  “Tell him what else you did!” Datherious screamed, and his face seemed to morph into something dark and inhuman.

  “I sold weapons to your king, and I sold weapons to the Underground….in hopes that humans would destroy themselves,” Lord Alder spat blood on the ground. “If you kill me, you will lose magic forever!”

  Datherious laughed. “It is intriguing to see you beg for your life in this manner. It might please you to know that I’ve found another way to your magic.”

  “A direct way,” said Aethea, who now walked down the hall, her boots clicking against the marble. She was in her human form, but Alder seemed to recognize her.

  She smirked. “You remember me.”

  Alder said nothing.

  “You see, Alder, I don’t need a middleman anymore,” said Datherious. “Aethea has agreed to offer her services and give me access to the tools you once possessed. Tools you kept quiet about,” and he reached down and pulled a gold chain from around the Elfin King’s neck. At the end of the chain was a blue crystal. As it rose, it shimmered like the sun on the sea. Barren recognized the power radiating from the stone; this was another piece of the King’s Gold, and if he had to guess, it was likely to have belonged to Ara, Aethea’s mother, the keeper of the heart of the ocean. Barren’s eyes followed it as Datherious pulled it over his head. “What? Were you hoping to use them against me?”

  Then Datherious grabbed a handful of the Elf’s hair and pulled his head back so his neck was taut. Barren’s heart beat faster in his chest, and Leaf began to struggle.

  “There is only one punishment for treason,” he whispered near Alder’s ear. “But it must be a relief to you after fighting for power so long to know that you can rest.”

  That was when Barren began to struggle, too, but the flick of the knife was fast across Lord Alder’s neck and Datherious cast him away to the floor as blood poured fast from his wound. The sound Leaf uttered was one Barren had never heard but understood—it was one of unspeakable pain. Shattering pain. Barren felt it deep in his core, to the depths of his soul.

  And Barren watched as Leaf struggled forward, hands bound behind his back. He crawled through the blood and nudged his father onto his back, and he wept over the body, begging him to live again.

  There’s so much blood, Barren thought as it coated the Elven king’s pale hair like a vile headdress, and he knew without a doubt that no matter the sins Lord Alder had committed, he had done it with the wish to protect his people and his son.

  How could there be evil in that?

  And Barren began to rage. Something within him broke free, and he found the strength to break the ropes that bound his arms together. The guards moved slowly, taken by surprise, and the smirk on Datherious’s face faded quickly.

  “Go! Let’s go!”

  Barren twisted and brought his head against the guard’s, cracking his skull. The man fell back, holding his nose. Barren reached for his blade and unsheathed the sword, skewering him. The man fell, and Barren turned to meet more blades. He knew this show of strength was unnatural, it was powerful, and it was dark. He was possessed with bloodlust. The guards raced forward, and Barren cleaved them in two. And when others tried to escape, he used his sword as a spear and impaled them.

  Not long after, he stood surrounded by a ring of bodies, and the anger that had possessed him was overtaken by the sobs of his best friend. He ran to the Elf and untied his wrists from behind his back. Then he stood aside as Leaf shakily took his father into his arms. He cradled his father against him and rocked back and forth, sobbing.

  Barren took up a bow and quiver of arrows from one of the guards and left Leaf to grieve. He went in search of Datherious and Aethea. He would kill them and it would be brutal. As he hurried down the hall, he caught a glimpse of them entering the forest.

  “Come back here and fight me, you bastard!” Barren yelled.

  He hurried into the woods behind them and sent up a silent prayer that the woods would work against them. Each time he caught a glimpse of them, their images disappeared into the brush. Barren ran forward as fast as his legs would carry him, and when they moved out of sight again, he decided to chance it.

  He strung an arrow. The bow was not his strongest weapon, but by Saoirse he would hurt them. The arrow cut the air and he heard a satisfying scream. He wasn’t sure where he’d hit, but he knew Aethea had taken the blow. Now for Datherious.

  But another cry caught his attention. It was Sara, and he knew without a doubt that Cove had fallen.

  No. The rage he felt was unrecognizable.

  Barren rushed through the forest, as fast as he could. Ahead of him, he saw Sam hurrying to meet him.

  “I know!” he called, and together they ran toward shore. When they broke through the tree line, his feet slid in the sand. In front of him he could see Cove on the ground, Sara bent over him.

  “Cove!”

  Sara screamed Cove’s name as if her heart had been ripped from her chest. There was fear, there was pain, there was anger. It made his blood run cold.

  Barren hurried forward and fell to his knees. “Albatross,” Barren picked up Cove’s head, but he was not responsive, and then Barren saw the new wound in Cove’s chest.

  “Albatross,” he said through his teeth. “Albatross, don’t you leave me!”

  He looked up at Sara, and her wise blue eyes met his. “You said you wouldn’t let him die,” she sobbed. “You promised.”

  What could he do? He’d meant he wouldn’t let dark magic take him, but this was different. There was no way he could breathe life back into Cove. He didn’t heal wounds, and he wasn’t a necromancer. And at that thought, he paused and reached into his pocket. He withdrew the small vial the Lyric had given him before she was lost at sea. The liquid inside was crystal blue and it seemed to glow, even in the brightness of the day.

  “His pulse is faint,” said Sam. “He’s still alive, but not for much longer.”

  Sara’s eyes were on the bottle. “Give him the magic. It can save him!”

  “Yes, but at what cost?” Sam asked. “Cove’s life? Maybe Barren’s.”

  “There is no cost to me,” said Barren after a moment. “This curse upon me, it wants me alive for now.”

  Barren uncorked the vial and forced half of the liquid in it down Cove’s throat. They waited but there was nothing. Barren didn’t know what he was supposed to do.

  “Poor it on the wound,” Sara ordered.

  Barren was surprised by her command, but he did as she said and poured the remainder of the contents on Cove’s wound. It immediately began to sizzle and smoke, and the skin bubbled and closed up. What happened inside, Barren wasn’t sure, but he saw the ambassador’s chest rise and fall. There were cheers, but Barren only smiled for a moment. As he rose to his feet, the cheers died down.

  “Lord Alder is dead,” Barren said and
paused. “Leaf is king.”

  Barren never thought he would utter those words.

  ***

  Barren wasn’t sure where all the blood had gone, but when he returned to the throne room, the floors were spotless and white. When he went in search of Leaf, he was escorted to a room along with the other pirates and Corsairs. Cove was taken to a healing suite and tended by Elfin healers. That night, dinner was brought to all of them, and Barren inquired after Leaf.

  “His majesty sits with his mother at their king’s side until he is buried tomorrow.”

  The Elf said nothing more and left. Devon came to his chambers soon after. He had changed and was free of grime from battle.

  “Cove is recovering well, I have been told,” he said. “The Lyrics said Morrigan gave you the remainder of her life-force. That is why you were able to save Cove. It was not dark magic with which you healed him.”

  “Morrigan?”

  “That was her name,” he said. “The other Lyrics have all been given quarters here. I am not sure of their future. The old ways have been gone for so long.”

  “Do you really believe the Lyrics were sent to be their guardians?” asked Barren.

  Devon did not answer, and so Barren prompted him again.

  “What do you believe?”

  “That they are a test,” he said.

  Devon didn’t expand on the subject, and Barren didn’t ask. Since the moment Barren knew anything of Elves, he’d known they believed mortals to be power-hungry and careless, yet he had seen the same characteristics in Elves. The Lyrics, with their ties to magic, could mean the end of Mariana, the end of any world as they knew it.

  “What of Layce and the others?”

  “They were all found dead. There were no wounds to their bodies, so we are left to assume the magic they consumed at the Ore Mines killed them.”

  That did not surprise him. The magic had only created temporary war machines. Bodies that were not made for magic couldn’t handle the power, but there were always people who felt they could defy the odds. Barren wasn’t so sure he could. He’d turned into a war machine as soon as Lord Alder was killed. He shuddered, remembering the rush of power that ran through him, the ease with which he’d broken the ropes around his hand, as if they were paper. He was still alive, but for how long?